


I'll See You When I See You

by seikahime



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, But of course Levi does come into play. (:, Coming of Age, Eren Yeager-centric, I don't really know where I'm going with this, It's not explicitly rivaere or ereri! It's really Eren-centric., M/M, Manga Spoilers, Reflective Piece, but I needed to get it out of my system
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-01
Updated: 2017-09-01
Packaged: 2018-12-22 11:23:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11966343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seikahime/pseuds/seikahime
Summary: It is the act of staring up at the sky – the cloudless blue, so pure, with seemingly no ill intentions – that brings back countless flashbacks one would rather forget.Its conscious reminder of loss, and the deafening numbness for the ones who were left behind.That even now, two thousand years into the future, these memories still haunt us – for what purpose, exactly, do they serve in this world?





	I'll See You When I See You

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, to everyone who is interested enough in trying this fic out, and thank you for taking your time to read this!  
> It's my first time attempting to write something, and I know I'm not a great writer. My imagination is not great and I find it difficult to put my thoughts into words. But nevertheless, Shingeki no Kyojin is an anime I hold close to my heart - and I think you do too, so if you enjoy this even a little, I'll be very happy!
> 
> Just a note, there won't be any explicit Eren/Levi interactions - and I mean in the physical sense, so I decided not to tag it as either Rivaere or Ereri: it's really up to your own interpretation. It's probably 2 chapters worth, and unbeta-ed, so it's fairly short. 
> 
> This work is supposed to be subtly melancholic and reflective - or I attempt it to be. I hope Eren will be able to tie up any loose ends from his life 2000 years ago.
> 
> That's it for now. Once again, I hope you like this story! Please feel free to leave comments or constructive criticism, I really appreciate it!

_It is the act of staring up at the sky – the cloudless blue, so pure, with seemingly no ill intentions – that brings back countless flashbacks one would rather forget._

_Its conscious reminder of loss, and the deafening numbness for the ones who were left behind._

_That even now, two thousand years into the future, these memories still haunt us – for what purpose, exactly, do they serve in this world?_

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

_The boy is 10 years old._

He stands in the middle of a field, though it resembled more of overgrown weeds and coarse gravel than luscious, crisp green at his feet. He kicks around the grains of sand and his emerald eyes squint from the fierce rays of the afternoon sun adulterating his senses. Tilting his head, he trains his sight on the hand tugging him along; undoubtedly feminine, speckled with familiar callouses and small scars. He acknowledges his name being called, he nods a wordless reply. He looks up and focuses on the sight before him. And then he sees it.

  
He sees the ruins and he remembers – far too clearly in the back of his mind. He remembers the fall of Wall Maria; debris and gravel catapulted through the sky overhead, he remembers being frozen in place, the ground at his feet not unlike the one he now stands at. And he stands rooted at the spot now. He faintly hears this familiar voice calling his name, _Eren_ – describing the history of the town he resides in, but all he comprehends… he comprehends nothing. Nothing but filtered background static and white noise and the all-so-familiar glare of the sun beating down on him and it was just like that day. He forces himself to focus on the source of her voice and he sees. _Mother_. But that’s not all he sees. He sees _Mother_ and he sees her face streaked with _tears_ and _blood_ and he hears her call his name – but it’s no longer that sweet, loving voice he’s so used to hearing, it’s laced with desperation and hurt and she screams and _screams_ and he can no longer differentiate his visions from reality and-

 

He no longer feels the ground at his feet.

 

*

 

He wakes up in the middle of the night yelling for his mother, screaming _murder_ and clutching at her nightgown when she comes bolting from the other room. He is relentless, he refuses to let go – even when it is that same comforting, soothing voice he’s used to hearing and not the near-animalistic desperation he hears from his dreams. He doesn’t understand. He recounts to her his vivid nightmares all while using the words _freedom_ and _death_ and the invasion of _titans_ – words he should not have an inkling of, words beyond his years. She wanted to attribute it to his overly active imagination, in an effort to provide an explanation, a justification for his distressing behaviour. Though deep down, she knew that she could barely even convince herself.

The dreams did not stop.

And then he understands.

Those memories pieced themselves together and made sense, much like an autobiographical account. And even though he understood the series of events in a life before – in _his_ life before, he could not for the life of him understand _why_ he _remembers_ , when he’s sure he shouldn’t.

He soon comes to the realisation that his mother could not understand – she had not a single notion of their previous lifetimes as he did, and he found himself wondering if his own memories were a blessing or a curse. He could only silently sob, leaning over his mother’s shoulder, and the constant fear of the loss of his mother and people he held dear would plague him throughout his childhood.

 

_He lived in trepidation just like livestock would,_

_Not knowing when death would creep up to them._

_An ode to the ones lost;_

_An ode to the one left behind._

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

_The boy is 13 years old._

He was paranoid – maybe he still is. But he realises the extent of the calamity that befell him and his family will always belong in the past. After all, his mother is still by his side, even now. He learns to treasure and appreciate his mother more, and he tries to make her worry less, even though he still cannot help but get into trouble and little fights. He concludes that some things will never change and that in itself is fine.

 

* 

 

The boy enrols into high school.

It is his first day of school and unsurprisingly, he’s almost late. He sprints through the corridors, frantically searching for the door plate 1-04, finds it and bursts into the room in the nick of time. The bell heralds the start of first period. Everyone in the classroom turns to look at the source of the commotion and he stares right back.

And then he sees familiar faces. Far too many familiar faces.

He sees _Mikasa_ and _Armin_ and _Jean_ and _Marco_ and _Connie_ and _Sasha_ and _Historia_ and _Ymir_ and he even spots _Annie_ and _Reiner_ and _Bertholdt_ and they look back at him with wide eyes and they’re fine – they’re all _fine_ and they’re _safe and sound_ and a huge sense of relief rushes through him –

And he cries. He stands at the front of the classroom and he just can’t stop bawling his eyes out.

Needless to say, his new friends never ceased to remind him of his _grand entrance_ on his first day of school, and teased him about it with every chance they could get.

 

* 

 

His group of friends lovingly dubbed themselves as the 104th Squad. To the outside world, they seemed to be a bunch of mismatched adolescents, but he knew - and he knew they knew better than that. They completed one another, and even if they never showed signs of remembering anything, that was fine with him. He wanted to be the only one burdened with the painful memories of the past. Most of all, he wanted to laugh with them together in the future that await them all.


End file.
